


The Way It Was

by ForReasonsUnknown (orphan_account)



Series: Of Spitfires & Love Songs. [2]
Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: (nothing explicit though), Hope, M/M, Nostalgia, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-WW2, Some light angst, collins owns a pub now cause why not, i shouldn't write accents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2019-01-01 02:44:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12146931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ForReasonsUnknown
Summary: And for a moment, they're young again, Collins smiling shyly, cheeks flushed under Farrier's open gaze, his dark eyes warm.





	The Way It Was

**Author's Note:**

> This was checked, but only by me so any and all mistakes are my own. And I swear at some point songs by other artists will be included in this series. Enjoy!

* * *

_i remember driving in my daddy's car,_

_out to the airfield,_

_blanket on the hood,_

_backs against the windshield._

The photograph is tatty and crinkled where it rests on the bar between them, crumpled from repeated folding, a line of tape up its back to hold the grainy thing together. But the missing corners and water stains do little to detract from the statement. From the look in Farrier's eye as he slides it to him without a word. From the very apparent fact that Farrier had kept it with him throughout everything. If they were alone and the world were different, he would break out into great sobs and launch himself at the brunette, never to let him go. But they're being stared at enough as it is, and they can't afford to get a bad reputation here.

His eyes stay fixed on the photo instead, and the brush of Farrier's fingers against his is more than enough to steady his breathing.

And he can't help but grin to himself at the memories that come flooding back to him like a tidal wave, knocking him off his feet as he daydreams about the simpler days when they were young, and the world hadn't decided to tear itself apart again yet. When their biggest concern was driving far enough away from civilisation to share deep kisses under the setting sun, Farrier teasing him mercilessly about the bright blush that always stained his cheeks whenever he called him _darling_.

He's able to pull himself back into the present for only a moment, taking a careful look about the place. There's only one man left in the back of the pub, checking his watch with a drunken-haziness as he drains the last of his pint, meeting Collins' gaze and changing his mind about ordering another. Collins takes a chance, his hand brushing Farrier's and staying there firmly. And he's going to speak, but then the last man is standing, rambling on to Collins about how he should get some band in, liven the place up. The blonde just nods politely, agreeing and saying that he'll _look into it_ , releasing a relieved sigh when he bolts the door shut behind him, his forehead falling to rest against the cool glass.

"I told you I loved you for the first time, that day," Farrier says into his glass, voice faraway and distant, yet somehow an anchor for the storm sweeping through Collins' head. Collins is almost taken aback by the blunt real-ness of it. But then, _that_ had _always_ been who Farrier was. Honest to a fault. "Do you remember?" And Collins nearly laughs, because even here they're speaking in code. It occurs to him that they hadn't done otherwise since that photo was taken. They'd never been truly alone since the war had started. Now they were, and neither of them had any idea of what to do or say. He turns but doesn't approach the other man; somewhere his subconscious tells him that Farrier can't leave him if he blocks the only exit.

"Of course I remember," and Collins actually smiles, the memory sparking something in him which he vaguely recognises as hope, an old friend he'd repressed mercilessly after Dunkirk. "Your Da' near took both our heads off when he found out we'd taken his car." And Collins blushes at the implications of his statement, but Farrier doesn't notice, and if he does, he doesn't mention it.  
" _If only he could see me now_." And Collins can't tell if it's meant to be a joke or not, but he laughs anyways, his worry quashed when Farrier's lip twitches upwards.

And for a moment, they're young again, Collins smiling shyly, cheeks flushed under Farrier's open gaze, his dark eyes warm. For a moment, they're out in a field in Farrier's father's car, discovering each other for the first time. They're falling in love with each other all over again and Collins never wants it to end. But then the aching in his bones returns, and the tacky clock behind the bar chimes for midnight and he's snapped back into the present with a painful jolt. From the seriousness in the air around them, Farrier is going through a similar thing.

Collins ambles to sit beside Farrier at the bar, out of both the need to be closer and him not trusting his legs to not give out on him. "Do ye think we could be like that again?" He blurts, swallowing nervously, not daring to meet Farrier's eyes, too ashamed, too _afraid_. And Farrier thinks for just a moment too long, and Collins is steeling himself for the rejection, for the _we were young then, it's different now_. It hits him then that it'd kill him to watch Farrier with someone else's ring around his finger.

But Farrier's hand dropping to his thigh wipes his mind blank, the heat radiating from his hand and the sound of his ragged breaths the only thing Collins is able to process.

"Yes, I do." Their eyes meet, and Collins feels tears prickling the edges of his vision and all he wants to do is run away to some nameless place, to hide away and learn to live again with Farrier. He settles for burying his face into the crook of his neck instead, entire body sagging at the feel of strong arms around his waist.

_And, for the first time since the war started, he thinks that they might be okay._

**Author's Note:**

> Dialogue is so painful sometimes smhh


End file.
